


What happens in Venice...

by anice_1 (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky talks an awful lot, First Kiss, Fortune Telling, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Skinny!Steve, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Underage Drinking, Venetian flair, Venezia | Venice, bisexual!Bucky Barnes, established Bucky/Nat (minor/background), established Tony/Pepper (background), la dolce vita, school trip to Italy, stupid boys in love, teenage!stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7418848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/anice_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a school trip to Italy Steve and Bucky accidentally get stuck in Venice at night. The romantic flair of the city is not lost on either of them, making the night much more emotionally challenging than expected ...</p><p>In which there are clueless teenage boys, fortune tellers, la dolce vita, unexpected revelations of feelings and the rise of Tony Stark as a relationship counselor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What happens in Venice ...

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo... I visited Venice for the first time a couple of weeks ago and I fell in love with it. It's absolutely stunning, let me tell you, you should all go visit if you get the chance! That's how this fic came about, anyway.
> 
> I feel like I should mention that I am aware of the fact that you can, indeed, leave Venice by bus after 6 o'clock (it would be extremely weird if you couldn't), but for story purposes I decided that you can't, sorry to anyone familiar with the area ;-)
> 
> Huge thanks also go out to [Rachael](http://camperincabin6.tumblr.com/) who read this story for me, looked out for mistakes and eased my self-consciousness about it. Yay! :)

„The Opera House La Fenice is the leading opera theatre in Venice. The name means ‘the Phoenix’ and has several interesting connotations. First of all, one of the earlier incarnations of this building was mainly built and funded by a company that had strong ties to the freemasons, where the Phoenix was used as a symbol of light.”

“Jesus, this is so dull, how many more boring buildings do we have to look at?” Steve hears Bucky murmur to him quietly enough that their teacher, Miss Hill, can’t hear. Thankfully she seems to be too distracted to notice them, following the tour guide’s every word with the same interested expression she had been displaying all day.

“I don’t know”, Steve whispers back. “I think it actually looks quite nice here…”

“It does, but I don’t enjoy all the commentary, it’s not like I will remember any of that later. I’ve seen so many churches and palazzos today … ah, what am I even talking about … _all week_ that I can’t even tell them apart anymore, and this theater thingy doesn’t even look very interesting or pretty in comparison.” Bucky replies and Steve can’t argue with that.

“Well, they said we were going to have some spare time later, so let’s hope for the best.” Bucky nods to that and tries to keep the impatient sigh that follows as silent as he can.

“The Phoenix reference also has a very sad background”, the guide continues. He speaks a very fluent English, but has a distinct Italian accent that makes everything he says sound very musical. Earlier Steve and Bucky had tried to roll the r the way he does, which Steve had managed quite well, while Bucky had given up trying after about a minute, claiming that he would knot his tongue if he kept doing that.

“The building actually fell victim to flames no less than four times, first in 1774, when it was still called Teatro San Benedetto. Since then all the following incarnations have been called La Fenice, referencing the building rising from the ashes after each fire like the proverbial Phoenix. The last fire was just in 1996, so actually not that long ago. This time it was arson, though, committed by a construction worker called Enrico Carella and his cousin. The theater as you see it here today was rebuilt after old photos and documents in the style of 1790. Parts of it were modernized, however, to accommodate the need for modern technology on the stage. It was reopened in 2003, so that part of its history is still quite recent.”

The guide doesn’t seem to notice that most of the class has zoned out of his lecture a long while ago, and when he starts on all the apparently pretty famous operas that premiered in this house, Steve finally gives up his own attempts to follow the speech. Bucky is now staring at his phone intently, having shuffled a few feet to the side so he would be out of Miss Hills field of vision. Steve can see him smile a bit before starting to type frantically. Steve sighs and lets his thoughts wander to everything that had happened the past week, since they arrived in Italy with their class. Everybody had been very excited about the school trip to Europe, even though Miss Hill had reminded them numerous times that this was supposed to be a cultural trip, learning about the history of the country, _not a holiday._ They had been told time and time again that they would, if possible, have a couple of hours to themselves in every city they would visit, emphasis on _‘if possible’,_ but they should not hold their breath for that _._ It had worked out so far, though, when they had visited Florence, Siena, Lucca and Milan and Steve hoped this would not end up being the one time it didn’t, because he found himself really liking Venice. Also, they would be going back to New York the following evening, so he was really looking forward to spending some time with Bucky here, preferably without any of their classmates that liked to tease Steve about all kinds of things.

It was a city like no other he had ever been to before, somehow managing to look really old and worn down but incredibly beautiful at the same time. The colorful houses, the canals with all the bridges and – as a result of that – the complete absence of cars made the whole city really quiet, and it felt more like a live action museum or a fairy tale town than an actual city. It was hard to imagine that people actually lived here, but Steve felt like it must be both a blessing and a curse in the long run. It must also be weird, he thought, to feel like there are more tourists in your town than actual citizens. He didn’t know if that was actually the case, but it certainly seemed like it. Especially the area around the Piazza San Marco and the Doge’s Palace, which they had visited earlier today, had been so crowded with people from all over the world that it had been a little overwhelming.

“Okay!” Miss Hills voice snaps him out of his train of thought. “That was the official part of today, now you will have two hours to yourselves before we meet again to travel back to our hostel for the night.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Bucky appears right next to Steve again, beaming with delight. “It’s nearly four o’clock, the bus leaves at 6:15, so please be at the bus station at 6 o’clock, _sharp!_ This is the last bus leaving for our hostel in Mestre this evening, so please make sure you will all be there on time, so nobody gets left behind when we get off this island! As always I’ve got city maps for all of you so you don’t get lost. Please take one each, then go have some fun, and I’ll see you all at 6!”

Bucky and Steve get in line to get maps for themselves and then venture a couple of meters away from the theater, before Steve stops to unfold the map.

“So, where do you want to go? Anything in particular we haven’t covered?”

“Uh, no, I don’t know, just start walking and see where we end up I guess? Maybe get some icecream on the way, what do you think?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve agrees, smiling, before he refolds the map and puts it into his backpack, catching up with Bucky as he strolls into the nearest alley and they proceed to turn some corners, taking in the charm of the city, finally free of boring lectures about its history.

“It’s so funny here, they have these little tiny narrow streets and you totally think you’re in the middle of nowhere, but then you suddenly emerge into some kind of main street and it feels like you’re back in tourist business, but then you turn left again, and suddenly there’s nobody there again at all, and it’s so weird!” Bucky says.

“It totally is, but kind of cool, too!” Steve replies, before he stops to look at the display of a mask shop. “They have like hundreds of these mask shops here. Do tourists actually buy so many of those?”

“Bit cliché, if you ask me, bringing a mask from Venice. I mean, what would you even need them for, other than to have them lie around in your house, collecting dust?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“I have a better idea how to spend our money, though. Look at that!” Bucky grins, pointing to an ice cream parlor a couple of feet ahead. “Let’s get ourselves some gelato and then do some tourist watching!”

“Yeah, let’s!” Steve smiles and follows his friend into the shop. Bucky makes a show of himself very unsuccessfully trying to order in Italian, having no idea about grammar and failing miserably again at pronouncing anything. He gets what he wants in the end, though, pays, and then waits for Steve who simply orders in English, which works out without any complications.

“They all speak English here, don’t they? Must be so annoying when your hometown gets taken over by tourists so much.” Bucky comments when they leave, hooking his arm to Steve’s.

“I guess”, the younger boy mumbles, swapping his ice cream cone to the left hand, because Bucky’s arm is now blocking his right. They walk for a bit, quietly licking their ice cream. Steve tries his best not to sneak too many glances to the side, because the way the older boy’s tongue flicks out to taste the scoop on top of his cone has something unintentionally sensual about it that does something to Steve’s stomach he doesn’t want to think too much about. He wills himself to concentrate on his own scoop of banana ice cream, determined to enjoy the time they have together, just the two of them, in this beautiful exotic city. Swallowing hard, he suggests an alley to turn into and Bucky happily lets himself get tagged along.

As they turn the next corner, they both have to giggle, because the alley they had been following proves to be a dead end, leading straight to the edge of one of the canals. They proceed as far as they can and then look up and down the canal.

“No gondola approaching to pick us up”, Bucky says with amused disappointment, untangling his arm from Steve’s to shrug and then absent-mindedly scramble for his phone in his jeans pocket. “The people on the other side of this seem to have more luck, no- oh look, there are Tony and Pepper!”

Steve’s eyes sway to where Bucky points to, and then he barely refrains from rolling his eyes because he indeed sees their classmates walk along the other side of the canal. As Bucky calls out to them they stop and turn, along with a few other people, who seem to be confused as to where the calling came from, but then get back on their way when they realize they were not the ones addressed. Pepper gives Steve and Bucky a wave, smiling, and Tony puts his hands around his mouth to shout.

“What are you doing there, you idiots, you can’t go anywhere from there!”

“No shit!” Bucky calls back. “What makes you think we’re not here on purpose? Actually we were just enjoying the view of this beautiful alley with all the lovely people, but now the two of you are blocking our view!” Bucky smirks and Tony raises an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“Suit yourself, Barnes! I have better things to do, anyway!” He takes Pepper’s hand and places a kiss on it, before winking at Steve and Bucky over the water and then purposefully continuing on his way, dragging a laughing Pepper along.

“Well, they seem to-“ Steve starts to say, turning towards Bucky, but then stops when he sees his best friend looking at his phone again in concentration.

“How’s Nat?” he says instead. Bucky’s head snaps up.

“What? Oh, yeah, she’s good. Misses me a lot, she says, will pick me up from the airport when we get back, and then we’ll go have dinner. That’s our three month anniversary, too.”

“I know”, Steve says quietly. He feels bad for not fully enjoying how happy his best friend apparently is. Of course he is glad for him in a way, because Steve likes Natasha and he truly believes that she and Bucky are great together. It has been very obvious that she makes him happy, and Steve wants Bucky to be happy. But then there’s always something else there, another feeling that Steve can’t quite place – _does not want_ to place. He knows it’s a form of jealousy, because Bucky is his best friend, and for that matter the only person other than his Mum he feels really close to, and for many years it had just been the two of them against the world. Bucky had been there for Steve when he was ill again, when he got into fights (again), when he had lost his dad, and all the other tough parts of his life.

He had also been there for all the good parts, celebrating Steve’s good grades in school, had been almost happier than Steve himself was, when he had won the New York Competition for Young Artists of his age group, when the strange thing the doctors had found on Steve’s Mum’s X-Ray had turned out to be harmless.  He had yelled at the guy from the insurance company, when they had not wanted to pay for the broken pipe damage in the basement of Steve’s house, prompting Mrs. Rogers to burst into tears, when it had actually worked and the insurance had scheduled a re-examination – Bucky could be persuasive like that, charming his way into everybody’s minds or hearts.

So Steve felt that he owed his best friend to be utterly and completely thrilled for him and his girlfriend. His first real girlfriend, for that matter. Bucky had always been popular and the girls had liked him, and he wasn’t exactly a shy guy, too. But with Natasha, everything seemed to be different, Bucky hardly checked out other girls anymore, his whole face lit up when he saw her, and he had hardly talked about anything else for weeks when they had first gotten together. Steve _knows_ that he should be happy, and he _wants_ to be happy for Bucky, but the little twitch of jealousy is always there. Jealousy because his only close friend now has somebody else in his life, that he gets equally close with, if not more. That’s all it is, jealousy amongst friends. It _has_ to be, because that’s bad enough as it is, and in the rare moments where Steve feels like it might be another kind of jealousy entirely, he pushes those thoughts down as deep as he possibly can, because _that_ would make everything so much worse.

“Earth to Steve, are you still with me?”

Steve starts at the sudden voice and his head snaps around to Bucky. He has put his phone away and looks at his best friend questioningly. Steve realizes that he has been staring at the canal, and the remainder of his ice cream is slowly starting to melt, dripping down his fingers.

“What!? Yeah, yeah, just a bit exhausted is all, this whole trip is really draining me.”

“Yeah, tell me about it” Bucky says, then smiles. “Eat your ice cream, otherwise you can just drink it in a minute.” He hands Steve the napkin left from his own cone and then waits as Steve proceeds to clean his fingers and eat the rest before any more of it can drip down on him.

When he’s finished they head back until they arrive back at the alley with the ice cream shop, and select a different direction this time, strolling along, making light conversation about the trip and wondering what Miss Hill would be doing on her own all the time.

“Do you think she’s more the shopping type of person, or does she sit around in a café and watch the other people?” Bucky wonders.

“I think she might be visiting more churches, maybe reading aloud to herself from her travel guide.”

“I can totally see her doing that”, Bucky smirks. “How she just wanders around inside some remote church, reciting some boring story about a statue or the shape of a pillar … like in that stupid Dome museum in Milan, do you remember? Was that the most boring thing ever or what!?”

“Oh yes, it was, except these weird dresses that they had? That was so odd, like in a fashion museum, why were they even there, that was so random!”

“Everything about that city was random, you remember the odd turning-on-the-bull’s-balls thing?”

“Don’t remind me”, Steve says, blushing a bit at the memory. “If anyone ever sees that video, I might have to kill you!”

Bucky laughs, nudging Steve slightly in the side. “It was cute, though.”

Steve blushes harder, looking straight ahead in embarrassment. While in Milan they had walked through this really fancy Mall-like thingy, when their guide (who hadn’t been quite as boring as the one from today) had pointed to a mosaic of a bull on the floor, with a big hole in the concrete where the bull’s balls would have been. The guide had told them that it was some kind of strange tradition that one would turn on the bull’s balls on one’s heel for luck and fertility. The class had howled in excitement at that, every single one turning on the mosaic, making a show of themselves as they did, making snarky comments about each other’s fertility. Steve had been ushered to take a turn, too, but he had been too embarrassed to even try to make it purposefully funny, so he had ended up doing some awkward turns, trying to steal Bucky’s phone afterwards when he realized that his friend had made a video of it. His attempts to convince him to delete it had not been successful, though, Bucky claiming that he might need it for leverage at some point, because one could never know where one might need such a thing.

“I think we should slowly start to head back, we need to be at the bus station soon”, Steve says, glad for the excuse to change the subject.

“Yeah, we’d better.” Bucky agrees, taking out his map to try and locate where they are. They quickly find their way, heading towards the bus station until they meet a crossroads with two smaller roads they can’t quite figure out on their own. They eventually decide to take the left alley, deciding that they can consult the map again when they see another street sign.

“Worst case scenario, we can go back to San Marco, because they always have signs pointing there _everywhere_ in this town”, Bucky claims. “And then we can find our way from there.”

“I know. But sometimes they just have two arrows pointing in different directions, so either all the ways lead to San Marco eventually …”

“… or the people of Venice are simply trolling the tourists hard.” Bucky continues, and they both grin at the thought of Venetian officials sitting in a room, coming up with some elaborate plan to put up confusing signs for tourists for their own amusement.

“Oh look, a fortune teller parlor”, Bucky points out when they pass a small, shady-looking shop.

“You want to know your fortune?” A voice with a strong Eastern European accent suddenly says from the direction of the door, and Steve and Bucky both jump, not having noticed anybody standing there.

“You’re a fortune teller?” Bucky asks dumbly, voice still a little unsteady from the fright he just got. Steve gets why he wonders – the woman in the door doesn’t look like you would expect a fortune teller to look. She seems to be about forty, has short brown hair and piercing blue eyes, and she’s wearing black jeans and a green hoodie that creases a bit as she shrugs.

“Yeah, is on the door, no? Not old enough to pull off crooked walk and wart-face.”

“Fair enough”, Bucky now says. Steve manages a grin and turns to move on.

“So – you _want_ to know your fortune? Usually I say 20 Euros for quarter hour, but because you two are cute boys and it’s late and I’m bored maybe 25 for both?” She smiles and Steve shakes his head, beginning to say thank you and keep going, when he realizes that Bucky hasn’t moved.

“25 Euros for a quarter hour with both of us, yes?” he now asks and Steve thinks he must have misheard.

“Exactly. I tell fortune to you and your friend. Always better to know what’s coming!”

“Buck, come on, I can predict for you _without_ a crystal ball that we’ll miss the bus if we don’t go…” Steve chimes in.

“We have a bit of time, though, it’s not far from here, 15 minutes should work out, Miss Hill called us in early anyway, the bus doesn’t leave till 15 minutes past six”, Bucky says, turning towards Steve, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“Maybe, but it’s a total waste of money. Come on. You should’ve bought one of these masks if you wanted to get rid of your cash. Sorry, Ma’m, but we have to go!” he then says to the woman and again tries to go, pulling at Bucky’s sleeve. His friend still doesn’t move.

“Come on, Stevie, it’ll be fun! Where is your sense of adventure! Live a little! I’ll pay the thing, I still have some left of that funny colorful money they have here, Dad said to take it and have a good time! I’ve never been to a fortune teller and I want to try it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Steve looks at him in amazement, wondering whether his best friend has now gone mad. He clears his throat, painfully aware that the fortune teller is still watching them with an unreadable expression, not having moved an inch since she last spoke.

“What are you talking about, this is ridiculous. We are wasting time and money here and I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” Steve sighs when he looks Bucky in the eyes, recognizing the expression in them. It’s the one he knows he wears himself when he’s dead-set on something. “Ok, fine, but I’m not paying anything for this”, he adds, before Bucky beams at him and drags him into the parlor.

The interior looks a lot more like Steve imagined a fortune teller parlor to look like. It’s full of colors, curtains and cushions and it smells funny, like burning cinnamon sticks or something. The room is dimly lit by small lamps and some candles, and it’s very quiet. Steve immediately feels uncomfortable, but Bucky apparently doesn’t, because he hands the woman some money and then flops down on the very large, soft sofa she motions both of them towards.

“I am Madame Lucia, by the way.” She says as she takes a seat on a relatively unimpressive wooden chair directly in front of the sofa where Steve and Bucky are now both sitting, sunken deep into the cushions.

“We start with you. Give me hands.” She says in Bucky’s direction, and he obliges by stretching his hands out, suddenly not looking quite as confident anymore. Madame Lucia takes his hands, turns the palms up and then proceeds to slide her own thumbs along Bucky’s hands for a while, saying nothing. Steve watches them curiously as his friend gets more and more fidgety, and wonders whether Bucky regrets his decision already, when they both suddenly start because Madame Lucia speaks again.

“You are very confident boy, have many people in your life that love you.” She stops and rubs at Bucky’s palms some more, while Steve only barely refrains from rolling his eyes, because _that_ had certainly not been a very hard deduction to make.

“You have had change in your life not long ago … another change will happen soon. Very important day today. But you must not mess it up, because you are too quick making decisions. Might hurt people you care about, but you decide.”

She pauses again, then looks Bucky in the eyes. “You thought about joining American army after school.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I’ve thought about it for a while, yes…” Bucky replies quietly.

“Well, don’t. Not good for you, not right choice”, Madame Lucia states, before she focuses her attention back to Bucky’s palms. “Meant for more in life.”

Steve’s head snaps round, mouth falling open while he looks at Bucky. He had never heard Bucky talk about anything army-related ever, so that confession now came totally out of the blue. How did some random fortune teller of Venice know about this, but not Steve? He had always just assumed they were going off to college together after High School, because they had always talked about definitely being roommates one day since they had become friends in elementary school. Coming to think of it, though, Steve now realized the subject hadn’t come up in a very long time. He swallows hard and turns his gaze back down to where Madame Lucia had resumed touching Bucky’s hands.

“You are pretty boy but also very smart boy. You must not rely on being pretty boy alone, that would be waste. You make smart decisions in your life and you will achieve great things. You must not worry so much about being popular. Worry more about being good to yourself, then all will be well.” She finishes vaguely before releasing Bucky’s hands and leaning back in her chair, looking at him intently.

“Umm … okay. Thank you, I guess?” Bucky says, sounding a bit uneasy. Madame Lucia nods and then turns her attention towards Steve, who immediately starts squirming, but nevertheless holds out his hands when she reaches out for them. He feels uncomfortable when she starts rubbing his palms like she did with Bucky’s before, and looks away nervously.

“You are very artistic, full of great talents … you make use of that and you will come far in life. You must be confident about what you can do, then great things will happen! But you are also very lonely … you must not dwell on that so much, because loneliness will hold you down.”

Steve licks his lips nervously and makes a point of looking straight ahead, painfully aware of Bucky’s gaze on him now. He doesn’t want to know what expression he would find in his best friend’s eyes if he ventured to look.

“You are very emotional person, and that makes your life harder than it should be. You care about others a lot, sometimes more than is good for you. You must not forget thinking about yourself sometimes. You have … many emotions inside you. Always feel them intensely. Very good for making art, not so good for emotional health. Sometimes maybe tell people more of what you’re feeling, find better balance in life, then maybe become less lonely and very successful also. For example, many conflicting emotions today, all just inside you…” Madame Lucia slowly looks up at Steve, then starts to turn her head towards Bucky.

Steve feels like he is seeing it all in slow-motion, dread building up inside of him as for what she might say next. He gasps, then yanks his hands away, huffs out a snarky “thank you for your input”, and then practically flees the store. He can vaguely hear Bucky calling after him, but he doesn’t stop running until he’s at the next corner, where he stops, panting, not knowing what direction to turn.

“Dude, what-“ Bucky starts as he finally catches up with Steve.

“Bus! We need to catch the bus!” Steve manages to squeeze out, interrupting his friend.

Bucky stops and looks at his watch, then his eyes widen. “Oh shit, I didn’t realize this took so long! Where do we need to go?” Steve hastily retrieves his map from his backpack, unscrambling it as quickly as possible, while Bucky walks off a few steps to check the street signs. A minute later they are off in what hopefully is the direction of the bus station. Steve is holding on to the city map for dear life, feeling  like a panic attack is approaching fast. He’s not quite running, but walking as fast as he can in this state, and Bucky matches his tempo, slowing down whenever he feels like Steve can’t quite catch up.

They turn a couple of corners, checking the map every so often, going in the wrong direction twice in their panic, turning around quickly to get back on track. After what feels like an eternity they finally reach the bus station, which looks eerily empty with just a few people walking by, neither Miss Hill nor any of their classmates anywhere to be seen.

 _“FUCK!”_ Bucky shouts and kicks a pole with a street sign, drawing a few offended glances from an older couple that happens to walk past him at that moment. _“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”_ he huffs again, looking at his watch in disbelief before running his hands through his hair distractedly, running his eyes over the bus station in continued disbelief. “Steve, I’m so sorry, I really thought we would be – oh my god, are you ok!?”

Steve is vaguely aware that Bucky has turned towards him, cutting himself off as he sees the state Steve is in. He has sunken down on a step nearby, gasping for air silently, clutching one hand to his chest while he is sweating all over, red-faced. He had only recovered from another illness a couple of days before they had started the trip, and he wasn’t supposed to exhaust himself so much, now realizing why the doctor had told him that over and over.  Bucky steps closer and sits down next to Steve, slowly taking his inhaler from his tense hands, putting his other arm on Steve’s back, starting to rub it in small circles while he murmurs to him quietly.

“It’s okay, Stevie, don’t worry, we’ll work this out. Just breathe, okay? Slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Good.” They sit like that for a while, until Steve feels the tension in his body slowly ease, and he sags against Bucky, not giving a damn. His friend immediately moves his arm from Steve’s back to his shoulders, absent-mindedly rubbing his upper arm instead and cradling him against his chest.

“Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah, a bit.” Steve slowly sits back up after a minute, trying not to dwell on the feeling of loss as Bucky’s body-warmth leaves his side.

“What do we do now?” Bucky says, removing his arm from Steve’s shoulder to run his hand through his hair again.

“We could call Miss Hill, I guess. She’ll know what to do.”

Bucky agrees, as the both take out their phones. “I can’t believe she just left us here like that, she’s supposed to be responsible for us! Ah … I hardly have any battery left. 16 new messages from Tony, though. Shit” He shows the screen to Steve, shaking his head.

_6:01 – hope u got out of your dead end … waiting for you and rogers at bus station_

_6:03 – I’m so calling rogers out for not being on time :D_

_6:04 – no really, that’s gotta be a first. Your bad influence getting to him, finally_

_6:05 – Hurry up, Hill getting nervous, thinks I should know what’s up-where R U_

_6:08 – DUDE WHERE ARE YOU_

_6:08 – DID YOU GET PUSHED INTO THE WATER_

_6:10 – Hill getting really angry, ur the only ones missing_

_6:11 – Bus leaving in five minutes, get ur lazy asses moving_

_6:13 – Don’t make me share the hostel with just Scott tonight, dude’s annoying as fuck rn_

_6:14 – BUS LEAVING IN A MINUTE MAN_

_6:14 – Hill calling Rogers on repeat for the last couple minutes, kid’s not answering his damn phone either, she’s walking up and down the road in a state. Would be funny if I wasn’t also worried now about you and Pepper is freaking out on me_

_6:15 – BARNES THE BUS JUST LEFT WITHOUT YOU WHAT IS GOING ON_

_6:18 – We’re off the island, you’re not there, what is happening, tell me you’re alive man_

_6:20 – BARNES I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE NOT TROLLING IT’S NOT FUNNY EVERYBODY IS FREAKING OUT HERE_

_6:21 – REALLY_

_6:21 – COME ON_

Bucky starts typing quickly in an attempt to put his friend out of his misery.

_6:23 – Got to bus station late, fucked up big time, sorry! We’re ok though, don’t worry. Tell u everything when I see u. Steve calling Hill now._

Steve stares at his own phone to see 10 unanswered calls from his teacher, immediately calling her back with shaking hands, feeling shame rising up inside of him. She answers the phone within a second, her voice filled with fear.

“STEVE!?”

“Yes, Miss Hill! It’s me, I … “ he looks at Bucky, unsure what to say, but his friend just shrugs, lost for words as much as Steve is. “I, um … we are really sorry, we lost track of time and then we ran to the bus but somehow got lost and then we got there late … now we’re here but the bus is gone. We are so, so sorry”, he finishes, unsure what more to say.

“But you’re not harmed?”

“No, no, we’re fine, really, just … late. And don’t know what to do. Sorry.”

She gives a sigh of relief and Steve can practically hear the tension leave he body as the worst of her fears are proven to be untrue.

“Good. I should be angry right now, and I will be, you can be sure of that, but right now I am very relieved that you are both alive and well. I had to leave with the others, because I couldn’t stay on the island with 25 teenagers all night because you two can’t tell the time properly. I’ll try to figure out how to get you to us, you just stay where you are, okay? Don’t move until you hear from me, you understand me?”

“Yes, of course. Uh … use my number though, Bucky’s phone is about to die any minute.”

“Will do. I’ll call you back. Don’t go anywhere.” Then she hangs up.

“We’ll never hear the end of this”, Bucky says, sounding slightly amused.

“No. But I will blame you completely, because this was totally your fault.” Steve replies, only half-joking. The whole situation doesn’t seem quite as dramatic anymore as it did five minutes ago, but Steve could have done without the excitement, let alone getting on the bad side of their teacher because of it.

“And you’re totally entitled to. I’m sorry Steve. Really.” Bucky says, completely serious this time. Steve just nods and then they both silently keep looking at Steve’s phone, waiting for Miss Hill to call back with a glorious solution. They are only interrupted by another text from Tony, calling Bucky a fucking idiot, to which Bucky grins but doesn’t reply. Finally, after what seems like hours but is actually not even fifteen minutes, Steve’s phone rings again and he immediately answers and puts it on speaker so Bucky can listen in.

“Okay, Steve, listen to me. There is no more transportation off the island this evening, so I talked to both your Mum and James’ parents to explain the situation,” Bucky groans at that but stops when Steve gives him a quick smack against the leg “and they were clearly not amused. James’ father let me know that he would sue me for child abandonment and I would hear from his lawyers.” Bucky jumps in horror at that.

“Oh Jesus! Miss Hill, don’t worry about that, he has a bit of a temper but he won’t actually do anything! I’ll explain everything to him and talk him out of it! I am so, so, SO SORRY!”

Miss Hill huffs. “Well, hello James, nice to hear from you, too. I appreciate the thought, but we got it all sorted, because Mrs. Barnes cut in with a solution. Well, long story short, the Barnes’ are currently booking a hotel room for the two of you for the night, so you can just stay there and then I’ll come and get you in the first bus tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the address as soon as I get it.”

“Okay”, Steve says, dumbfounded at this. Whatever solution he had expected, this wasn’t it. Bucky smiles wide in excitement and leans in towards the phone again.

“Well that sounds great! We don’t, uh, have our stuff here, but I think we can manage for one night without a toothbrush…”

There is a grunt from the other end of the line. “I’m sure you can, but I’m also sure you can just buy one in a supermarket on the island. You’re within civilization, you know that, James, right? Or maybe they can even give you one at your hotel. I’m sure you’ll come up with something. In any case, I expect the two of you to stay out of trouble tonight. Don’t put me or your parents through any more misery. Steve, I’m counting on you to keep James in check!”

“Uh, I’ll try, Miss Hill…” Steve says, still taken aback a bit by the whole situation and the sudden feeling of responsibility for the two of them.

“Miss Hill, I don’t know what makes you say that, you may have an incorrect impression of us, because actually Steve’s the one who … ow!” Bucky backs away a bit when Steve elbows him in the side, but keeps grinning.

“Anyway”, Steve chimes in. “We’ll keep a low profile! Sorry again for all this hazzle and thank you for  making this work, we really appreciate it!”

“Yes. Whatever. Whether I like it or not, it’s my job. Anyway. I’m never taking another class on a trip after this, let me tell you. The amount of grey hairs I developed in the last hour _alone_ is incountable. Now go to your room and don’t embarrass anybody if you can manage that much. Goodnight.”

She hangs up and Steve sighs, eyeing Bucky suspiciously, who is still grinning at him, before his attention gets turned back to his phone by an arriving text. Miss Hill has forwarded him the name and address to a Hotel. They quickly look it up on Steve’s map and slowly start making their way there. Steve is lost in thought, still feeling a bit anxious but slowly relaxing. Bucky slows down a bit along the way to text Natasha, explaining the situation and letting her know that his phone would die soon and she should not worry if he didn’t reply to texts anymore, because is charger was back at the hostel. She texts back within a minute, letting them know that she finds the whole thing hilarious and wishes them a great night, having what she calls a grown up holiday, alone with no adults in a foreign country, and wishes she could be there with them. Steve assumes that she’s being polite and actually just means being there with Bucky in Steve’s place, but he doesn’t say that.

*

When they arrive at the hotel Bucky talks to the guy at the reception, in English this time, and the man knows immediately what’s going on, having already expected them. They get handed a key and sent up to the second floor, where they open the door to their room excitedly. Bucky immediately flops onto the right side of the big double bed, throwing his backpack off to the side.

“This is nice!” he says, and Steve has to agree. It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s a million times better than the tiny four-bed hostel rooms they had spent the last week in. Other than the bed the room has a desk and a chair, a TV is hanging on the wall, and they have their own bathroom, which is definitely a big improvement. There’s soap, shampoo and shower gel on the sink and paper and a pen on the desk. Bucky is now fumbling with the remote control, trying to find something decent on the TV, and Steve leaves him to it, locking himself in the bathroom for a minute to breathe deeply and let himself relax a bit. Everything wasn’t so bad after all, although they definitely have not heard the end of it from Miss Hill and their parents. Not tonight, though. Tonight everybody, including themselves, is just happy that everything has worked out for now. They are not dead, they are not lost, they have a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in and a television, even. And they are alone, just the two of them. Which makes Steve happy and uneasy at the same time.

When Steve heads back out, he lets himself fall on the bed next to Bucky, who is still changing channels in frustration, and closes his eyes, listening to the constantly changing voices speaking in Italian.

“This is nice”, Bucky says. “Like a sleepover. We haven’t had one in ages. We used to have sleepovers all the time, why did we ever stop? It was fun.”

“I don’t know”, Steve answers, his eyes still closed, one arm thrown up so he can rest his head on it. “I guess as we got older we kind of got too cool for it or something.”

“Bullshit. How can you get too cool for sleepovers? When we get back home we need to start doing them again, watch some movies and eat a lot of popcorn in PJs.”

“Sounds great”, Steve says, eyes still closed and feeling sleepy. They say nothing for a minute, until Bucky tosses the remote aside in frustration, and sits up.

“Just Italian channels, I don’t understand a word. I’m starving, though. Want to go out to get something to eat?”

“I thought you wanted to have a sleepover a minute ago, now you want to go out? Make up your mind, Buck.”

“Sleepover will have to wait, it’s not a lot of fun while one is hungry and there’s no popcorn available, even. Aren’t you starving? You just ate an apple this afternoon and then that ice cream. And the breakfast in this country hardly even deserves the name.”

“Yeah, I could probably use a Pizza or something. Maybe Pasta, I don’t know. Italians are definitely a lot better at dinner than they are at breakfast.” Steve opens his eyes again and slowly gets back up.

“You can say that again”, Bucky agrees before getting up as well and retrieving his backpack. “Also, while we’re out, maybe we could try to get ourselves some toothbrushes.”

They head downstairs where, thankfully, the receptionist is able to hand them each a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste. They pack both away and then get back out into the city, letting their gazes wander along the streets, trying to decide on a place to sit down in.

“Somebody once told me, a trattoria is just like a restaurant, just dirtier.” Bucky says as they pass a couple of places that either look too shady or too expensive for their liking.

“I don’t think that’s the official distinction, to be honest”, Steve muses, stopping in front of a place that looks decent to take a look at the menu displayed outside. The prices on this one seem comparatively reasonable and there is no waiter positioned outside to try to get people in, which makes the place even more likable. Steve is not overly fond of the way one constantly gets approached in this country, but thankfully, Bucky never seemed to mind a lot, graciously turning the people down even after the 10th waiter had tried to get them to sit down at a table.

Bucky now lines up next to Steve, looking at the menu, too, and then nods. “Looks good. Let’s go in.”

They do so and get sat at a table near the window, where they can look at the still quite steady stream of people walking past. They go silent for a minute, watching the hustle and bustle outside. There seem to be people of all origins and age groups here, most of them looking genuinely happy and relaxed as they are surrounded by the charm of Venice. Steve’s pulled out of his thoughts when a pretty Italian girl approaches their table to take their order. Steve orders pasta and Bucky makes a thing again of trying to order something in Italian, turning on the charm and winking at the girl. She laughs and shakes her head in mock annoyance, but then winks back as she turns away to go get their drinks.

“She’s like … 10 years older than you at least”, Steve says, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. “Also, you have a girlfriend, in case you forgot.”

“Yeah, so? Flirting’s fine, it’s not like I’m actually going to do anything. Loosen up, Stevie, we’re in Venice on our own, this is going to be a fun night, just you and me!”

He gives Steve the million dollar smile that never fails to make his knees go weak. Steve is glad that he’s sitting down right now and hopes that Bucky never consciously realizes the actual nature of the effect he has on his best friend, or Steve would definitely die from embarrassment. He smiles back but is rescued from having to come up with an answer by the waitress who returns to their table with their Cokes. She smiles at Steve politely, then winks at Bucky again before she makes her way back to greet a young couple that has just walked in, showing them a table at the other side of the restaurant.

“So what exactly did you have in mind for this fun night you are suddenly so excited about?” Steve asks, although he’s not sure he really wants to know.

“I don’t know … I was thinking we could just walk around, take in the fact that we can feel really grown up being here all on our own and just see what comes our way. I don’t know what’s up here at night, didn’t expect us to still be here after dark. Do you have anything you’d like to do?”

“No. I don’t know. Just walking sounds good, I guess. If it gets creepy we can just head back to the hotel, right?”

“Right.”

Bucky smiles again and Steve smiles back, suddenly a lot more excited about the prospect of spending the night here than he had been before. They fall into a comfortable silence again, watching the people outside until their food arrives, brought out by a different waiter this time. Bucky makes a disappointed noise when the guy leaves, prompting a laugh from Steve, before both their expressions turn to bliss when they taste their pizzas.

“I think I only now realize just _how_ starved I actually was”, Steve says between two bites.

Bucky nods in agreement, chewing on his own food. “Told you.” Finally they both finish, putting knife and fork down, full and content. They both pull their cokes closer and drink some more when their plates get taken away, the second waiter coming over again asking them if everything was to their satisfaction. They reply that it absolutely was and ask for the bill before they get back to finishing their drinks.

Steve is staring out of the window again when he notices Bucky shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He turns his head to look at his friend questioningly.

“Uh Steve, about earlier…” Bucky starts and Steve feels his stomach drop. “About when we were with that fortune teller. She said … she said that you were lonely. And you looked so … I don’t know. Like something hit you in the stomach hard. I guess, I mean … was she right? Is that how you feel?”

Steve feels his face burning hot and puts both hands firmly around his glass on the table in an attempt to ground himself.

“She was stupid”, he mumbles and looks down on his drink. “A rip off artist feeding off tourists. Guess work. You know how these things work. I tried to warn you. Now it’s messing with your head.”

Bucky doesn’t immediately reply and Steve can tell he doesn’t believe a single word. Bucky knows him too well and Steve has never been a good liar.

“Stevie”, he then says quietly, leaning forward and putting a hand on Steve’s forearm to make Steve look up at him. “you know I’m here for you if you need me to be, right? Always have been, always will be. Till the end of the line, remember? I don’t want you to be sad, and I don’t want you to feel lonely, because that means I’m not being a very good friend to you. And I want to be. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

Steve swallows, looking back down again. Not about this, he thinks, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, sure, I … I know. There’s nothing.” Bucky continues to look at him, searching his face, and Steve feels a blush climb up his neck. Bucky doesn’t say anything else, however, letting the subject drop. They finish their glasses in silence, then pay and leave the restaurant. After they turn a corner, Bucky suddenly stops and says “HA!”

Steve stops, too, and turns around to him, surprised to find his friend’s face wearing a wide grin. “You know what I just realized?”

“No, what did you realize?”

“The drinking age in this country … is only 18.”

Steve keeps looking at his friend, still not understanding.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Buck, but neither of us is 18, yet, to I don’t know what good that will do us?”

“Well, not quite”, Bucky admits, “but it’s less than a year away for me, and you also turn 17 in a month. It means, when we try to buy alcohol in this country, we only have to fake being one year older than we are, not four! It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

“Well, the date of birth on your ID is still the same, so…”

“Yeah, but only if they even ask for ID. Worth a shot. What could possibly happen? They might not sell it to us, but I’m sure they won’t arrest us. But we won’t find out by not trying … you had fun at Tony’s party, didn’t you?”

 “Yeah, I did, weirdly…” That had been a really strange evening. It had been Tony’s 17th birthday, and the older boy had somehow managed to get his hands on some alcohol for the celebration. Steve had been reluctant to drink at first, unsure what it would do to him, but in the end he had had some, and he did have fun. He had put down his inhibitions about dancing, not caring for once how stupid he might look flailing about on the dance floor. Then he had had a long conversation with this girl called Peggy that he probably would never even have managed to talk to while sober. He hadn’t seen her since, she apparently was a cousin of Tony’s only in town for his birthday, but she had been nice. She lived too far away, though, and he would never have dared calling her again after the alcohol had worn off. What he remembered, though, was Bucky giving him the thumbs up over Peggy’s shoulder and that he had felt on top of the world that evening for many different reasons.

“Not so much the next day, though.” Steve flinches a bit at that particular part of the memory.

“Well … no pain, no gain.” Bucky winks and gently steers him back into the direction they came from, claiming that he had seen a supermarket there. It is, in fact, still open, so Bucky tells Steve to wait for him outside and goes in. Steve stands next to the door feeling a bit stupid, until Bucky emerges a couple of minutes later, triumphantly waving a big, heavy plastic bag. He lets Steve peek inside to find two bottles of white wine, a bottle of water and a couple of plastic cups.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Two bottles? How drunk exactly are you planning on getting? I doubt they will let us bring the rest of that into the plane tomorrow evening.”

“Don’t know. We’ll see. Always good to be prepared. Here, take this.” He takes the water bottle out of the bag and puts it into Steve’s backpack together with the cups, then takes the remaining bottles and places them into his own, crumbling the bag and throwing it away when they pass a trash can.

“Well, where do you want to go?” Steve asks and Bucky shrugs. “Maybe we could find that dead-end we ended up in earlier? Sit down there? It was quiet and had a nice view on the strollers.”

“If we ever find that again, I’m not exactly sure where that was.”

They go looking anyway and don’t find it, but they find another one instead that’s even quieter albeit a bit smaller than the one they were in earlier. They sit down on the edge and let their feet dangle, taking in the quiet for a minute, listening to the soft splashing of the water below. Then Bucky starts rummaging around, taking out the wine and retrieves the cups from Steve’s backpack. Smiling, he pours them each a glass and hands one to Steve, raising his own up for a salute.

“To our Venice adventure”, Steve suggests, smiling.

“Yeah – and to us being awesome”, Bucky says before they clink their cups and sip a bit of their wine each, before Bucky puts his cup down to lean back a bit, putting his weight on his hands.

“I feel like we haven’t done this in forever, sitting and talking, just the two of us.”

Steve nods and takes another sip. “It’s been a while.”

“That’s what we’ll do when we get back, spend more quality time together. I only see you when we are in groups, lately. That’s got to be remedied.”

“That’d be nice, but I think Natasha pretty much has a claim on all your free evenings now.” Steve says, looking down on the water thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I guess …” Bucky mutters. “I’ve kind of not been with you a lot, since I’m with her. I’m sorry.” Steve turns to look at his friend, stunned at how serious he sounds. It’s slowly getting darker now, Bucky’s face being in shadow making it hard for Steve to read his expression.

“Geez, Buck! I didn’t mean it like that, it’s not an accusation! She’s your girlfriend and she’s entitled to want you with her, and you should be! I’m happy for you, really! I told you before and I mean it!”

“I know you didn’t mean it like that, but it’s still true. You’ve been my best friend for what feels like forever and I’ve never wanted to be that guy who abandons their friends for a girl.”

Steve makes a surprised noise. “You haven’t abandoned me, Buck. You may not handle that alcohol as well as you think, though. You’re talking nonsense.” He adds with a side glance to Bucky’s already empty cup. Bucky looks towards it, too, then takes up the bottle to fill up his cup again, before offering the bottle to Steve. The younger boy holds out his almost-empty cup, having an inkling that this is a bad idea but feeling like he needs this now to be able to handle this whole conversation.

“I kind of have, though. I’ve noticed you seemed down, lately, but I didn’t ever ask you about it, because I was so caught up with myself and Nat, but I should have. I’m supposed to be there for you and I wasn’t. I know what you’re like, you never complain about anything if I don’t press you about it, but usually I’m good at reading you. Now I didn’t. Or rather – I did notice but I didn’t follow up on it, which is even worse, and now you’re shutting me out. Do you still trust me, Stevie?”

Steve starts at that. “Of course I trust you! And I’m not shutting you out!”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me!”

“Okay”, Bucky says, sighing.

“Maybe _you’re_ the one shutting _me_ out”, Steve says after a couple of seconds, finally feeling the effect of the alcohol creep in. He’s feeling a bit bold, restraint starting to go out the window.

“What makes you say that?” Bucky replies, sounding concerned.

“Well you didn’t tell me you were thinking about joining the army. I always kind of assumed we would go to College together like we said we would.” Steve feels like he sounds selfish and whiney now, but he can’t help himself feeling hurt about Bucky planning things as important as that without even so much as mentioning it to Steve.

“It wasn’t a decision, just something I have been thinking about for the last couple of months. I mean … I’m not as good in school as you are, so I figured maybe College isn’t the path for me and I did a little research into careers at the army. It’s a while until we graduate, so I’m not making any decisions now, anyway. Just toying with ideas. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, to be honest, I guess, like … it just never came up until now. I wasn’t withholding it on purpose. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for everything, you have nothing to apologize for”, Steve says, backtracking quickly because he’s feeling stupid for complaining in the first place. He’s glad that it’s dark now so Bucky can’t see him blush. He knows him well enough, though, that he can probably still tell from his voice, but still.

“We really need to get back to doing more together if only to talk about what’s going on in our lives. This is not an acceptable situation.”

Steve takes another gulp of wine and looks for something to steer the topic away from his relationship with Bucky, trying to come up with something to lighten the mood. “Well, are you sure you wouldn’t rather have sleep-overs with Nat?” he asks suggestively and laughs a bit, hoping that it doesn’t sound too hollow.

“Already have”, Bucky says matter-of-factly, prompting Steve to choke on his wine and sending him into a coughing fit, Bucky trying to help as best he can by repeatedly slapping him on the back until Steve can breathe again.

“Uh, sorry, uh, well, that’s … great? I mean … it is, right? How was it?” He immediately wants to bite his tongue because first of all, he doesn’t actually want to know and second, it’s none of his business anyway, best friend or not. Some things are better left undiscussed.

“It was, uh…” Bucky clears his throat and now _he_ is the one blushing in the dark, Steve can tell from the way his friend rubs at his neck while he’s scrambling for words. “It was fantastic. I mean … I kind of stayed over twice first and nothing happened … I mean … kissing and stuff … but nothing beyond that. Next time things … uh, did happen. First time was a bit awkward, though, because, uh … I didn’t really know what I was doing exactly, so I just sort of fumbled a lot and, uh … did some other things that she maybe didn’t appreciate as much, and she’s a bit more experienced than I am, so she sort of helped me out a bit there, and … aaah well. It turned out to be amazing in the end. Since then I feel like I might have gotten the hang of it a bit, judging from … uh whatever. Yeah. Anyway. That’s … yeah.”

Steve smirks a bit at how flustered Bucky is but can’t say anything, too stunned by this sudden confession. They both drink a bit more wine, digesting the conversation.

“What do you mean, she’s more experienced than you?” Steve finally asks.

“Well. She has got this ex called Clint, they have apparently … yeah. And I hadn’t before, so there you go.”

Steve turns around more towards the shadow he can now only see of his friend. He’s by now feeling _really_ light-headed and weird, and on the one hand he actually doesn’t want any more details, but embarrassed, flustered Bucky isn’t something he gets to experience very often, and it’s too adorable to not follow up on.

“You hadn’t before?” he repeats, stunned. “I thought you had … you know … what about that exchange student you went out with? And that blonde girl Pepper is friends with? And the small girl that lives down your street?”

“God, am I _that_ guy, too?”

“What guy?”

“The guy that swaps out his girls so often that his friends don’t even bother to remember any of their names at all.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I remember Nat alright, and she’s the only one that really matters, right? And I didn’t think you … did anything with every girl you went out with. I guess I just kind of assumed something must have happened some time, because they always seem to be so into you and you into them, and I sort of figured you could … if you wanted.”

“I may or may not have played that up a little sometimes. For Tony’s sake, mostly. There was a lot of making out. I’m good at that … or at least I think I am. Anyway. But then every time either her or me sort of chickened out at the last minute. And now I’m glad I did because it was worth waiting for Nat, in the end. But really, Stevie, had something happened I would have told you! What do you think!”

“You didn’t tell me about Nat, though.” Steve is vaguely aware that this sounds like an accusation again, but right now he really doesn’t care.

“No, but I wanted to, I really did. Just not with other people there, because I don’t really want everybody to know. I guess they just kind of assume anyway, but still. Better leave them guessing. It was about four weeks ago, and the two of us haven’t really seen so much of each other alone lately. Until today, and I’m telling you now. I really don’t want you to feel like I’m shutting you out. Whatever you want to know, just ask!”

Steve swooshes his hand across the floor in search for the wine bottle and then fills up his mug again. Without asking, he fills up Bucky’s, too, but it’s only half-filled when the bottle runs empty. He leans over to take the second bottle out of Bucky’s backpack, filling up Bucky’s mug and placing it next to his friend’s hand. Bucky immediately takes it and takes another sip.

“There’s nothing else I think I want to know. I can’t offer anything interesting in return, anyway.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Stevie. It’s friendship. You’re supposed to feel comfortable telling me a lot more than you tell other people, if I want to call myself your best friend. But it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with everything.”

“Okay. Now I’m feeling like an ass for being pissed at you earlier.”

“You’re not as ass. All I want is for you to know that I’m here and I’m always willing to listen, no matter what. Don’t worry about Nat. You’re very important to me and she knows that. She can handle me being away sometimes to spend quality time with you. Neither her or me will think it’s selfish of you, okay?”

“Okay”, Steve says quietly. He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat and blink away the tears that are starting to try escaping his eyes, again glad that his friend probably can’t see them in the dark. He’s so happy to have Bucky in this life, but he also feels he doesn’t deserve him, because Bucky is trying to be the best friend to him anyone could ever possibly wish for, and Steve is ruining this beautiful thing by secretly just wishing it to be more than that. He’s staring out on the dark canal, lost in thought, finally painfully admitting to himself that the jealousy he was feeling _was_ in fact the other kind. The kind that made everything just so much worse.

“However …” he hears Bucky say while he’s edging closer to Steve, mischief in his voice. “…if hot make-out sessions with beautiful girls start to happen, I _do_ want to know.” Bucky starts poking him in the side, laughing suggestively. Steve has to laugh with him, despite himself, trying to squirm away, but Bucky’s not having it and still edges closer, nudging him in the side with his shoulder before he settles down next to Steve again.

“Very funny, you jerk. May I introduce to you your best friend, also known as ‘the guy who’s never even kissed anybody’ and that probably won’t change too soon.” Steve is now very glad about the alcohol, because even as loosened up as it makes him, his breath still catches at how much closer Bucky now is to him. He thinks if he was sober now, he would be ready to jump straight into the dark canal in front of him.

“That’s a crying shame, though! Girls are strange, Stevie. I don’t understand what’s going on. Seriously, you’re the most amazing person I know, and also you have very beautiful lips, too, I don’t know how anybody would _not_ want to kiss you.”

Steve swallows hard again, still dizzy because of the alcohol, but getting the distinct impression that Bucky is a lot more drunk than himself. He hasn’t exactly kept track of the amount of wine that has disappeared, and it’s too dark to see the bottle clearly without leaning over Bucky, which Steve definitely doesn’t want to do at the moment. He’s blushing rapidly again, because … Bucky thinks he’s got beautiful lips?

“Well I don’t either”, he tries to joke. “I mean look at me. Tall, built, handsome, popular, who doesn’t want that, huh? Oh yeah wait, that was you.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit! You need to stop putting yourself down so much, really! I think it’s more your attitude towards yourself that’s putting people off than it’s anything else. I mean, remember that party at Tony’s, when you talked to that Peggy girl, she liked you alright, it was just unfortunate that she lives so far away! But you were happy that night! Outgoing, funny, talkative, and not a bad dancer as it turns out. Also the girls would be all over you for your drawing, women like that sort of thing, you’ve seen Titanic, right? But you’re not using it right.”

“I don’t want to use it, that’s not why I do it.”

“I know! You won that contest, though. I had to talk you into it first , because you’re always so shy about it, but you’re so good, and the jury obviously thought so, too! You don’t have to shove it into people’s faces, just don’t try to hide it so much. I don’t know Stevie,” Bucky’s slurring a bit now, “I’m just trying to say I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, I don’t know anybody who deserves that more than you do! But sometimes I feel like you don’t even want to let people appreciate how awesome you are! Good thing I at least worked that out, anyhow, or I’d be missing out on you as much as everybody else does. The world doesn’t hate you, Steve, you just sometimes don’t let it love you, that’s the main problem I think. Because if you would let it, it would be really easy for the world to love you, you would see that if you tried.”

Steve tries to will himself to breathe evenly now, more conscious than ever by Bucky’s closeness and trying to not let the emotional turmoil that his friend’s words send him into show. It’s almost too much to bear, hearing how highly Bucky thinks of him, how much he appreciates him and how important he is to him – and still not to be content with it, still yearning for more. Just that tiny little bit that’s missing for it to be the kind of appreciation that Steve actually wants from Bucky. That tiny, but very important bit of Bucky’s heart that Natasha has but Steve doesn’t. He knows he should give some kind of answer, but he can’t think of anything to say, and he’s afraid that his voice might betray his emotions if he does.

Bucky finally breaks the silence after a while by stretching, grunting, and slowly scrambling to his feet. It happens so suddenly that Steve can barely stop himself from reaching out to keep him in place, already missing the warmth next to him yet again.

“Yeah anyway, I felt like I should say that. Maybe you can think about that some more once we’re sober again. You know that feeling when you’re so drunk you still realize you’re drunk and you talk too much, but you can’t stop yourself? That’s how I’m feeling at the moment. Good thing Tony’s not here or I’d never hear the end of it. Anyway, Stevie, I meant what I said, no matter what. If you can remember any of it in the morning, promise me you’ll think about it. And now let’s get back.”

Steve gets up slowly, also grunting a bit from having sat too stiffly for too long. He watches as Bucky picks up the half-empty wine bottle and puts it to his lips, taking in a gulp before he hands it to Steve, who follows his example. They walk back to the hotel without talking, sharing the remainder of the wine before throwing the empty bottle into a trash can along the way. Steve is half-aware that the other empty bottle must still stand at the place where they had been sitting, along with the plastic mugs, but he can’t bring himself to care about that at the moment.

They stumble more than walk into the hotel, topple into the elevator and then Bucky fumbles with the keys for a while until Steve takes them from him to try his luck. It takes him a couple of tries, as well, but he manages it in the end, and then they awkwardly stand in their room.

“Um … so how are we going to do this? Since we don’t have our pajamas … do we just sleep in our clothes or what?” Steve breaks the silence of them both just staring at the bed as if they’ve never seen one before.

“Nah”, Bucky answers, shaking his head a bit in an attempt to clear it. “In our boxers I guess.”

“Okay”, Steve comments nervously.

“Steve, there’s no need to be self-conscious, nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Right.” It’s true, they’ve seen each other with very little clothes plenty of times and it shouldn’t be a big deal, but suddenly, it is.

Steve puts his hands to the hem of his shirt, not quite managing the courage to pull it up, especially when he notices from the corner of his eye how Bucky is starting to unbutton his own shirt. He swallows as he gets a glimpse of bare skin as Bucky undoes the first two buttons from the neck down before he turns to Steve who is just still standing there, frozen, hands clutching the hem of his shirt.

Bucky just looks at him, assessing, then walks slowly over until he’s directly in front of Steve, slowly untangling his stiff fingers from his shirt before entangling them with his own. “Steve.” He then proceeds to look Steve in the eyes, who is making a point of looking anywhere but directly at Bucky, having forgotten how to breathe altogether. “Look at me.”

Steve forcefully takes in a breath and obeys. He looks up and meets his friend’s eyes, and then he can’t bring himself to look away again, because what he finds there keeps him firmly locked in place. It’s a mixture of softness, concern, adoration and … understanding. Steve feels like he can’t breathe or swallow or move or do anything else, as Bucky slowly leans in closer until his lips brush Steve’s ever so slightly. Bucky pulls back a bit, looking at Steve again with _that look_ and Steve thinks he is about to faint when he finds _desire_ replacing the softness that had been in his friend’s eyes before. He still can’t move or think about what his own eyes might be giving away, but whatever Bucky finds there seems to encourage him, because he leans back in and kisses Steve again, a bit more firmly this time. Steve’s head is spinning and he doesn’t know whether it’s the kiss or the alcohol or both, but the world seems to be frozen in place until he finally manages to kiss back, unsure what to do or whether he’s doing it right, but at the same time not giving a damn. Because it’s Bucky and he’s kissing him and he tastes like wine and he hasn’t been lying about being good at kissing. Not that Steve has anything to reference this to, but he doesn’t know how it could possibly get any better than this right now.

Bucky still holds Steve’s hands in place, slowly moving closer, edging him to the wall. He pushes Steve’s hands against it on each side of his head and then slowly starts to move his mouth from Steve’s lips down to his neck, drawing slightly embarrassing noises from the smaller boy in the process.

“If you knew how amazing you are…” Bucky says between kisses. His voice is deep and rough in a way Steve never heard him talk before and that goes right through his spine straight to the front of his pants. He blushes immediately, amazed how there seems enough blood inside of him for both ends of his body at the same time, and prays that Bucky doesn’t notice. His prayer goes unanswered just a moment later, though, as Bucky crowds his body against Steve. But then it doesn’t matter anymore, because he feels that Bucky is just as hard as he is and they both gasp at the contact. Bucky turns his lips back to Steve’s mouth and the younger boy now returns the kisses feverishly, pulling his hands free from Bucky’s to yank them into Bucky’s shirt. Bucky brings his own hands down to Steve’s hips to pull him even closer. Steve’s hands brush bare skin on Bucky’s chest, and for some reason that is what snaps him out of it and back into reality.

It takes all of Steve’s willpower to break the kiss. “This is bad … a bad idea… Bucky… stop…” he manages while he’s trying to catch his breath and Bucky is chasing after his lips. Steve is dead set on ending it now, though, unclenching his hands from Bucky’s shirt and gently but firmly pushing him back a little bit. Not very far, just enough so there’s a thin layer of air between their bodies, but it still feels like the hardest thing he’s ever tried to do. Bucky looks at him in confusion, his eyes slightly out of focus, which makes Steve even more certain that it’s right to put a stop to … it. Whatever this was.

Bucky looks Steve in the face, then down where his hands are resting on his hips. He motions vaguely in the direction of Steve’s crotch. “You don’t _look_ like you want me to stop.” Steve tries to breathe in deeply once more. “Well, neither do you. But also, you’re drunk. Very drunk. And I’m drunk, too. And you have a girlfriend, remember? Nat, home in New York? Who’s been missing you for a week, and who you’ve been missing, which is probably why you’re so horny now?” Steve swallows at the realization that the last part was probably true. It’s very sobering.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just creases his brows pensively and still doesn’t move. Steve is still too close to Bucky, but he doesn’t want to physically push him off, so he continues. “So that’s two reasons to do this and three reasons not to. So let’s go to sleep now and reconsider this in the morning, when we are sober.” He actually kind of hopes that Bucky won’t remember any of this in the morning, judging from the state of him, but at the same time Steve suspects that his own brain won’t be as merciful to him. Thankfully, Bucky now seems to see reason and steps away, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, sleeping. Good idea.”

They don’t say anything else after that, silently undressing, Steve feeling more self-conscious about it than ever, but making a point of not looking at Bucky while he does it, and he can’t know for sure but somehow thinks Bucky is doing the same.

When they get under the sheets, Steve is painfully aware of the presence in the bed next to him. His brain is not doing him any favors and keeps replaying the events of before over and over in his head. He thinks he will never sleep again, not daring to move or even breathe too loudly, but he must have dozed off at some point, because they both wake up from loud bangs against their door and the voice of Miss Hill shouting from outside.


	2. ...stays in Venice?

“Steve, James! Give me a sign that you’re awake, I’ve been trying to call you on your phones for the last two hours! Get out here!”

Steve bolts upright, only to make a distressed noise when a sharp pain rips through his head. He looks to Bucky to his right, who simply makes a lot of groaning noises, squeezes his eyes tightly shut and throws his forearm over them.

“Uh, we’re coming, we overslept, I’m so sorry! We’ll be out right away!” Shouting is painful, too, but thankfully Miss Hill doesn’t prompt him to say much more.

“Right. I’ll be waiting in the Lobby. Your friends Tony and Pepper insisted on coming with me, they’re downstairs with coffees. You won’t have time for breakfast now. We need to get back to the others. Hurry up!”

“Okay”, Steve manages to call out again, before he hears her walk away down the corridor. He couldn’t care less about breakfast, probably wouldn’t be keeping anything down right now, anyway.

He briefly considers just laying back down to sleep off his hangover, but that’s not really an option, especially if he doesn’t want their teacher to find out about the alcohol. Which will be hard enough anyway, if the way he is feeling and the pained noises Bucky makes are any indication.

Steve gets up as fast as he can in his current state, throws a quick glance at his phone, which is again showing numerous missed calls from his teacher and slowly approaching the end of its battery life, and then quickly dresses himself before he stumbles into the bathroom. He takes out the toothbrush the receptionist hat given him the day before and starts brushing his teeth, hoping that he will at least have something remotely resembling clean breath afterwards. He looks like a wreck but that can’t be fixed now. When he emerges from the bathroom, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch, arm still thrown over his eyes, and seems to be asleep again.

He stands still for a moment, looking at the bit of bare chest the blanket doesn’t cover, trying to push away the images of the events of last night, and then clears his throat.

“Bucky.” No reaction. “BUCK! You need to wake up! We are so late _again_ , we need to get _going_! Come on!”

Bucky groans again and moves around a bit, but doesn’t do much more than that, so Steve takes a step closer to the bed, trying to ignore his own rummaging headache. He considers just pulling away the blanket, but decides that he doesn’t need to be THAT cruel just yet.

“Really Buck, _please_. You need to get up! Like – _right now_!”

“Aaaah Jesus”, Bucky finally says, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t shout so much, my head’ll explode, I swear. Just leave me here to die.”

“You’re not dying, you just have a hangover. I do, too. It sucks but it will pass. But Miss Hill _can not know about that_ , so _get up_ and pretend that you’re fine!”

“Steve, you have no idea how sick I feel. Aaah _Jesus Christ_.” Bucky had tried to open his eyes but slams them right shut again when the bright light hits his pupils. It would have been funny if Steve wasn’t so damn scared of what would happen if Miss Hill found out about the drinking. And what would happen to their relationship once Bucky remembered what happened last night, but that would have to wait. There are more pressing matters to attend to. He takes a step toward the end of the bed and fists his hand into the blanket.

“If you don’t get moving right now, this blanket will.”

“Aaaaahhh”, Bucky just says, trying to hold on to it for a second, but then apparently decides that it takes too much effort, so he moves around some more and then finally, thankfully, starts to sit up in slow-motion.

“Fine. I’ll get into the bathroom. You can wait for me downstairs.”

“If I leave this room right now, you’ll just lie back down and continue sleeping.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, right. Not happening. Now get up.”

“Ugh, you’re so bossy, what the hell is even wrong with you, didn’t know you had that much cruelty in you.” Bucky complains some more, but to Steve’s utter relief he finally gets moving and half crawls, half stumbles into the bathroom.

Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands in a feeble attempt to shut out both the pain and the emotions that would both, as he knew, be haunting him for a while. He can hear water running and splashing, which Bucky had probably just tried to put into his face to wake himself up. After a while he can hear the noises of somebody brushing their teeth, some more running of water, then the flush of the toilet, water in the sink again, and then Bucky emerges, moving very slowly as he gathers up his clothes and dresses himself. Steve tries to look anywhere but to his half-naked friend and asks himself whether he could ever get back to the uninhibited friendship and carefree playfulness that they had once shared. If he was honest, it hadn’t been like that for a while, but the last evening definitely had not been a step into the right direction either.

It seems to take forever, but finally they are both wearing all their clothes, gather up their backpacks, and make their way downstairs, Bucky dragging a couple of feet behind Steve, meeting with their teacher who is indeed sitting at a table with Tony and Pepper. They all get up, Tony immediately raising an eyebrow at Bucky, who’s very obviously still in quite a bad place. He turns his gaze to Steve, knowingly, and winks at Pepper, who just smiles. Miss Hill, however, looks at Steve and Bucky with a suspicious frown.

“What happened to you both, you look like you were hit by a truck. James much worse than you, Steve.”

“Uh, I don’t really know. I think he may be coming down with something and maybe I caught it, too, I don’t know. Plus, we didn’t catch a lot of sleep last night, sorry. So we’re not feeling so good, but we’re here now and ready to atone for everything. Where are the others?”

“Miss Hill sent them all to this shopping mall. They were over the moon, let me tell you!” Pepper answers. Tony still hasn’t said anything, which is very unusual for him and thus making Steve very nervous. He can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows exactly what’s going on and Steve only hopes that his friendship with Bucky will keep him from calling them out to Miss Hill. Or anyone, really. Because he certainly won’t do it for Steve’s sake, that’s for sure. He watches in confusion as Tony innocently pulls out his phone and takes a quick picture of Bucky, which his friend clearly doesn’t even notice.

Miss Hill still looks at them assessingly, her expression unreadable. Steve feels himself nearly crumble under her gaze, when she finally lets out a sigh, shakes her head, turns around, and motions for the four teenagers to follow her. Pepper hooks her arm into Bucky’s, giving him support. Tony lets himself fall back and walks next to Steve, which makes him a bit uneasy, because usually a snarky comment follows when he does that.

He is not disappointed.

“You were lyyyyiiiinng…” Tony singsongs into his ear, quiet enough so Miss Hill can’t hear. “Coming down with something my ass! Those are some full-blown hangovers if I’ve ever seen some. Steven Grant Rogers! I didn’t know you had it in you!” He sounds genuinely impressed, making Steve even more uneasy. How this day managed to get even worse and worse was beyond him. And it had just started, too.

“Yesterday you were so late you had to stay here, then you and Barnes apparently went to some bar chatting up girls or something, because you have the hangover from hell and there’s a really nice hickey at your throat, and today you’re lying to your teacher’s face. Maybe our boy Barnes has managed to make you a regular member of society after all! Consider me impressed!”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he immediately slaps his hand to his neck, where Bucky had kissed him yesterday. Tony snickers and Steve frowns at him, trying to hide the panic crawling up on the inside.

“Do I really have a hickey?” he asks, trying to sound suave and unconcerned but panicking internally. How had he not noticed that in the mirror earlier?

“It’s there. Exactly where your hand is, too, so don’t pretend you don’t remember or something. Seems like you finally got some action, man, congratulations! I’m asking Barnes when his mind reconnects with his body, because if I wait for you to tell me shit I’ll be waiting until my toenails curl up.”

“Yeah. Thanks Tony. Did you come here just to torment me or what?”

“I did not. Didn’t even know I would have this much material for that, so that’s just a bonus. Actually I was concerned for Barnes, wanted to know what he was up to, but by the looks of it he enjoyed the evening. And now I am enjoying the look of him. That’s pretty good for leverage if I want him to do shit in the future”, Tony smirks good-naturedly and winks at the smaller boy.

Steve is incredibly grateful that Tony and Pepper had for some reason decided to wait in the lobby instead of waiting in front of their door, as Steve would have expected them to do. Probably Pepper’s doing, he assumes.

For some reason Tony and Bucky are genuinely friends, some kind of weird competitive friendship that could sometimes look like they didn’t like each other at all, but was actually just an act. Tony was Bucky’s bro, and with that came some weird Tony-specific form of acceptance of a guy like Steve, who he normally probably would never even have bothered with.

Tony loved to tease Steve, sniggered when he made him blush and liked to call him out on his failings, because, as he said, somebody had to and Barnes didn’t do it. He was never mean, though, knowing fully well how much Steve meant to Bucky, and liking Bucky far too much to risk their friendship over something like that.

Steve is now panicking, though, because he feels like he needs to talk to Bucky to get their stories straight, before Tony gets to him first. He doesn’t know what to say to Bucky, is the problem. He doesn’t know anything at all at the moment, he needs some time – time to sleep off his hangover and then time to figure out what he feels and find out what Bucky actually remembers and how _he_ feels about it and how they would go on and what to tell others. Or not to tell them, more like.

Tony seems to be done with Steve now, or maybe taking pity on him, because he doesn’t say any more. They reach the bus station and finally board the bus No. 7, which they had been supposed to go onto 17 hours ago, before all of this mess started.

They get back to their four-bed dormitory at the hostel, Bucky and Steve both going back to bed immediately, and Tony thankfully leaving them to it, informing them that he would now get back to making out with Pepper, which he claims was the only thing he enjoyed more than tormenting hungover teenagers in his dormitory. Bucky seems to fall back asleep within a minute, Steve takes a little longer, thinking and fretting about everything, but finally his headache, hangover and lack of sleep get the better of him and he dozes off again until the others come back, loudly chatting after their mall experience.

He doesn’t get to talk to Bucky alone for the rest of the day, and they don’t get seats next to each other on the flight back later that evening, so Steve is pretty much left to his own thoughts. Bucky hasn’t given him any indication that he remembers anything about what happened when they got back to the Hotel room, and Steve certainly is not going to remind him. He has, on the other hand, also not given any indication that he does _not_ remember, not having talked to him at all since the night, but Steve decides to not dwell on that detail.

Their parents are waiting at the airport to pick them up on Friday morning. Steve is getting hugged tightly by his own Mum and then by Mrs. Barnes, and told numerous times how glad they are that everything went well and to please never ever put them through something like that again. Steve kind of thinks that he actually hasn’t put his Mom through anything much, because she only heard about the whole thing once the hotel room and everything was already in place, but he doesn’t argue on it, just nods and hugs her tightly, glad to be home.

Back home everything seems eerily normal. He has to tell his mom about the Italy trip in detail, telling her about the buildings he actually does remember having visited and showing her the pictures he took. There are several selfies with Bucky in front of various landmarks, and each of them is like a punch to his stomach. Mrs. Rogers also wants to know about the night in Venice.  He tells her about wandering around, about having pizza and sitting on the edge of the canal, but he leaves out the fortune teller, the alcohol and hangover, and of course the kiss. He hopes Bucky will do the same, but he can’t know for sure because he still hasn’t heard from him and doesn’t know what Tony will manage to squeeze out of him once he gets Bucky to talk. Which might have already happened, Steve realizes.

By five o’clock on Sunday Steve is freaking out, constantly turning his gaze to his phone, hoping that Bucky will call or text, and contemplating calling or texting himself, but not quite working up the courage to do it, having been miserable all week-end, and exhausted to keep up appearances in front of his Mum. He thinks about what they will say to each other Monday morning in school. How they would act around each other, how much anyone else did know. Nobody else had commented the hickey, surprisingly not even his Mum, who had definitely noticed. She had looked back and forth between Steve’s neck and face with a raised eyebrow but remained silent, which was really not the reaction he had expected from her, but which he was really glad about.

He lies on his bed, phone in hand, still thinking about what to do about all of it when there’s a knock on the door to his room before it slowly opens and Bucky pops his head in. Steve almost drops his phone, hastily scrambling upright to look at his friend.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure…” Bucky has never before knocked, and he has never ever asked to come in before he did. This is a bad sign. The first step of distancing himself, he thinks. Steve swallows, but doesn’t say anything, waiting for Bucky to sit down on the chair in front of the desk, and notices him nervously twiddling with his fingers.

“Your Mum let me in.”

“Yeah, I know. Good. I mean, yeah sure. Always did, right?”

“I guess…”

Bucky looks around the room nervously as if seeing it for the first time, then he breathes in deeply and seems to pull himself together.

“Look, Steve, I … I wanted to apologize. For … you know. What happened. In that hotel room. I … I shouldn’t have done that, it was a dick move and I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“It’s alright…” Steve says, barely managing any words at all because his throat suddenly won’t cooperate anymore.

“No! No it’s not. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss, I mean … _we had just talked about it like 15 minutes before_ , and I totally ruined it for you! Your first kiss should have been special, not some drunk guy who doesn’t get his shit together, pushing you against a wall like some meaningless hook-up and only backing off when you really put your foot down, all while _you’re_ drunk also. You shouldn’t have had to keep me in check like this.”

Steve feels like he’s hearing this through a thick layer of fabric, Bucky’s words seeming more and more muffled as he goes along. Bucky regrets it, is the only thing he can think. Bucky regrets everything so badly. For a couple of seconds he just stares straight ahead, swallowing hard. “Why did you do it, then?” Steve finally asks the question before he can question himself about whether he really wants to hear the answer at all.

“Search me.” Bucky shrugs with a pained expression. “Ask my stupid drunken brain. Something snapped. You were standing there and you were so embarrassed to even take your shirt off in front of me, and it didn’t use to be like that between us, and I kind of thought, like, ‘hey, look at this dork, he thinks so low of himself when he really doesn’t have a reason to, and nobody but me ever told him how wonderful he is and he doesn’t believe me, too. Somebody needs to kiss some sense into this guy’, and then I just did. I guess in my dizzy brain I sort of wanted to make your first kiss good for you, to make you feel good about yourself and stuff, but I ended up doing exactly the opposite and you don’t deserve that. And don’t you tell me again that it’s alright or it’s okay, because it’s not! It’s definitely not! I fucked up, Steve and I feel really bad about it, and please don’t start comforting me, because I can see you’re about to!”

Steve had opened his mouth to do exactly that, but now he shuts it again, dumbfounded and unsure what to say. He feels relieved that Bucky is still talking to him and apparently not blaming him for anything. But at the same time he’s hurt by how much Bucky just wants to undo the whole thing, even if his reasoning does make sense on a rational level. Emotionally, though, it’s like one more heavy punch to the gut. And he has no idea what Bucky expects him to say to all that.

“Bucky, I … I don’t know, this is …” Bucky looks at him and doesn’t say anything, leaving Steve looking for words to put his feelings into without interfering. Steve takes a breath and tries to pull himself together.

“Look, it’s … I mean, I get what you’re saying and … I’m glad you’re here, because we needed to talk about it but I didn’t have the guts to do it. I wasn’t even sure you remembered at all…” He watches Bucky swipe his hand through his hair nervously. “But, I mean … it’s not like you were some drunk stranger who ambushed me in an alley. You’re my best friend, and it was …” he cuts himself off before swallowing down the lump in his throat again. “You didn’t ruin it for me. I liked it, I mean …” Steve squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to cry and gathering up all the courage he has. It wasn’t meaningless to me, that’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t, because what good would it do?

“… it was a good kiss. I think. I mean I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but you seemed to know what you were dong and … uh … it was nice. I mean. For kissing your best friend, I suppose? So I’ll know what to do when I kiss somebody. Yeah.” He kind of wants to punch himself now for how stupid he sounds, but continues to avert Bucky’s gaze instead, awkwardly sitting on his bed.

“Yeah, I suppose”, Bucky mumbles, distractedly shuffling his feet on the floor.

Steve suddenly realizes something, his head snapping up to finally look at his friend again. “I won’t say anything to Nat, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not! I mean, of course, I’m sure you never would. That’s not the point at all. I mean, I’m not sure if I should tell her or not … I feel like I should, probably, being a good boyfriend and all, but on the other hand … why even stir sleeping dogs, I mean … it didn’t mean anything anyway.” Steve thinks it sounds a bit like a question, but figures that is was probably just hopeful imagination, when Bucky had just made it very clear that it didn’t. So Steve just shrugs helplessly, hums distractedly and chews on his lower lip. He feels Bucky staring at him, but neither of them say anything more and the silence stretches out uncomfortably.

“Want to watch a movie?” Steve finally asks, trying to break the awful awkwardness that had settled between them. “Yeah, sure…” Bucky replies, clearing his throat and getting up to retrieve Steve’s laptop and carry it over to the bed. He sits down next to Steve, far enough away so they don’t touch, and routinely opens the Netflix website, settling the laptop between their legs.

They don’t say a lot throughout the movie, but laugh together at the stupid comedy they are watching. It’s still a little bit awkward when Bucky leaves two hours later, but only a little bit. It will pass, Steve thinks as he’s getting ready for bed.

But as he lies in the dark of his room a little bit later, he’s not so sure about that anymore. Bucky’s words from earlier are circling round and round in his brain, and Steve curls up in a ball, unsuccessfully attempting to soothe the painful knot in his stomach.

*

They meet at school the next day like any other day and take their seats next to each other. They talk and joke like they always do, but Steve can’t shake the feeling that something is different, like Bucky is somehow more distant than before. He can’t put his finger on what it is, exactly, but he feels like the kiss is still standing between them. He doesn’t ask if Bucky had told Nat about it or not, although he kind of wants to know. She’s at another school across town, but Steve wants to be prepared for the level of awkwardness to expect when he next sees her. He can’t bring himself to ask Bucky about it, though, not wanting to hear how the conversation had gone, Bucky claiming again how it hadn’t meant anything and he was actually in love with her and just her. He didn’t want to know if she had laughed it off, if they had had make-up sex, or if Bucky hadn’t told her anything and was still deeply regretting it for Steve’s _and_ his girlfriend’s sake and beating himself up over it.

Their friends seem to notice something is not quite right, giving them questioning looks all week but knowing better than to meddle. Everybody except Tony. On Friday, Tony apparently decides that he’s had enough, because he suddenly appears during lunch break, and sits down next to Steve on the schoolyard bench. Steve looks at him questioningly, absent-mindedly chewing on his cheese sandwich.

“What did you do with Barnes?” Tony asks without warning. Steve chokes on his sandwich and coughs heavily before he can answer.

“What!?”

“Ever since we came back from Italy and the two of you have had your infamous hangover, you have been incredibly weird with each other. Which has never happened before, since you are usually joined at the hip and everything. So there’s me thinking, uh huh, something weird must have happened in Venice. Which is why I talked to Natasha, who told me that her James has been distracted and acting strangely all week, but she doesn’t know what’s going on, because he won’t talk to _her_ about it, either, pretending that nothing’s wrong. Which kind of supports my suspicions, but I didn’t tell her about those, obviously.”

“And what suspicions would that be?” Steve feels like he has been punched in the gut once again by Tony’s words about Natasha. This is starting to become a far too familiar feeling. He doesn’t like to have his own fears confirmed about how much they haven’t ruined not only their relationship with each other, but also Bucky’s relationship with his girlfriend. He needs time to process, and all he wants is for this conversation to end as soon as possible, but knowing Tony that’s not going to happen until _he_ chooses.

“Well … let’s see” Tony lets the word drag out and then starts to put up his fingers as he explains. “There’s the two of you, alone in Venice, city of romance, for a whole night. With quite a lot of alcohol as it seems. Then there’s you showing up with a pretty nice hickey the next day, which is weird, because you’re not exactly the chat-up-and-make-out-with type of guy. Then we have our beloved James Barnes refusing to talk about what’s bothering him not only to me but also to his own girlfriend. Which is also weird, because they seemed to be so madly in love two weeks ago. And we have the two of you acting strange around each other, which is the weirdest thing of all, because you’re usually disgustingly inseparable. So where does that leave us?”

Tony puts a finger to his lips and creases his forehead in mock concentration, making a point of looking anywhere but directly at Steve.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what we can deduce from all of those facts. Tony Sherlock Stark, I thought to myself, there has to be some logic behind these strange occurrences! And then I think and think and think, and I finally arrive at the conclusion, that you only could have gotten that hickey from Barnes himself. And that this wasn’t just some drunk fooling-around, but there were feelings involved. Which is why you’re both so miserable now, and why Barnes won’t tell his girlfriend. Am I right?”

Steve stares at him, open-mouthed. His first impulse is to deny everything, but he can’t speak and he’s too stunned to even pretend. When Tony nods he knows that he could read the answer on Steve’s face no problem.

“The only thing I don’t get, though, is why there’s no happily ever after going on here. Help me out with this, Rogers? What’s the issue?”

Steve still stares at Tony, feeling like his whole body has gone cold.

“Why don’t you ask Bucky about it?” He finally chokes out.

“I tried”, Tony says. “He told me nothing was wrong and I was seeing things and should mind my own business anyway.”

“And so you should”, Steve mumbles. “None of that’s your business.”

“Ah! One would think so! But I’m making it my business, because like it or not, Barnes is my friend and I hate to see him like that. And you’re an annoying little boy scout, Rogers, but you’ve kind of grown on me, and most of all _he_ likes you, and I want to help. Really. I get that I’m not exactly the best person to talk to about these things, but I thought, you know, seeing as you would usually probably not talk about any of this stuff with anyone but Barnes, and he’s your problem currently, I thought I would offer. Also, I’m curious about the gossip.”

Steve bolts upright. “Who have you told?” Images of the whole school knowing about Bucky rejecting him float through his head, and he thinks he would need to leave the country if that happened.

“Nobody, relax, dude”, Tony says. “I was joking. Geez. I just talked to Natasha like I told you, and I may or may not have cross-checked some of my thoughts with Pepper, but she would take it to the grave, let me tell you. Offer still stands, though.”

Steve relaxes a bit and sags against the back of the bench.

“Thanks, I guess, but … there’s nothing you can do, I think.”

“Well, ok then. I guess the two of you really need to figure your shit out. I don’t know what the problem is, but this is not an acceptable situation in the long run, so … I don’t know. Figure it out, I guess. And if there’s anything you think I _can_ do, you know where to find me.”

With that, Tony gets up and leaves Steve staring after him in amazement. This was the most serious conversation he had ever had with Tony. If he had figured it out, though, did other people, too? Pepper knew, in any case … and Natasha probably suspected something. She didn’t seem the type who would tolerate her boyfriend brushing her off for long. All of this was just such a shitty situation already, let alone what hell it would be once people figured out what was going on, and Steve had no idea what to do.

The weekend comes, and Steve spends it at home, alone. His mum is out working shifts at the hospital most of the time, so he is pretty much left to his own devices and thoughts. He hasn’t talked to Bucky all weekend and he’s getting more miserable by the minute. Steve lies on his bed again, staring at the door, thinking about how Bucky had walked in there exactly a week ago, shattering his heart not long after. When he feels his insides turn once again at the thought, he sits up abruptly. Making up his mind, he collects his phone and dials Tony’s number before he can second-guess himself again. The older boy answers on the second ring.

“Tony? It’s Steve. I think … I think I would appreciate someone to talk to, after all. If the offer still stands.”

There’s a surprised pause. Then: “Sure. You want me to come over or walk to my place?”

“I’ll be over in 10. See you. Thanks!”

He ends the call and gets up to gather his shoes. Tony doesn’t live far, but the one time Steve had been to his house at the infamous alcohol-heavy birthday party had been impressive. The Starks lived in a mansion, and the outside and everything in it practically looked like something right out of a design catalogue. There was a pool, a fast car for each of the family members, big rooms with big windows, a bowling alley and a pool table in the basement, and so many more things that Steve’s family could never have afforded. Not to speak of the housekeeper, the gardener and the cook in the Stark family’s employment. Tony, on the other hand, had never been to Steve’s house, which could have fitted easily at least four times into the Stark’s property, and the last thing he needed right now was Tony making some comments about his home, let alone his room.

Tony lets him in when he gets there, leading him up to his room which, despite being big and full of all kinds of gaming consoles and other tech Steve’s not interested in, is actually quite cozy. Steve sits on the couch and takes the hot chocolate Tony is handing him a minute later, grateful for the consideration Tony’s showing.

“So what’s up? I was quite surprised to actually hear from you, I have to admit.” Tony says, flopping down on the couch next to Steve. “Normally you always just insist you can handle everything by yourself.”

“I was, too. But I’m miserable and you’re Bucky’s friend so I thought … you know.”

“Must be bad”, Tony comments with a raised eyebrow, but concern resonates in his voice.

Now that he’s there, Steve isn’t quite so sure talking to Tony is a good idea, anymore. He quickly tries to talk some courage back into himself. Sure, they have never been close, but Tony cares about Bucky, and Bucky was apparently not doing very well, either, so what was there to lose?

Steve takes a deep breath and then tells Tony everything. He doesn’t start on the day in Venice, but much earlier, when he had first suspected the feelings he had for Bucky weren’t just pure friendship anymore. How he felt about Bucky and Natasha. And then everything about Venice – the fortune teller, the panic attack at the bus stop, Bucky’s concern in the restaurant. The alcohol, the conversation at the canal, then about the kiss in the hotel room, at which point Steve turns red but Tony thankfully for once doesn’t comment on it. He also tells him about the conversation a week ago and the awkwardness ever since. “But he doesn’t like me that way. He’s being a good friend and regrets what happened, and feels bad about not being a good enough boyfriend to Nat.” he finally closes, leaning back on the couch with a sigh, looking down at his almost empty cup.

Tony hadn’t interrupted him once and his expression hadn’t given anything away. Steve had to admit, though, that it had felt good to say all of it out loud, to share with somebody, even Tony. Who now makes a pensive face and thinks a while before he makes a comment.

“Well … some of that I had guessed, but not all of it. You really have it bad for Barnes.” It’s not a question.

Steve nods, looking ahead miserably.

“Hm.” Tony says. “I mean … he doesn’t talk about it. Not to me, anyway. I never thought he might be into dudes, so consider me surprised. Did he really have a boner!?”

Steve groans and lets his head fall back. “Yeah, focus on that, great! He’s alive and he’s 17, so that’s hardly the point here!”

Tony grins. “Well yeah, there’s that. As indicators of attraction go, though, a good old erection is pretty reliable.” Steve squints at Tony, a bit taken aback by the turn the conversation has taken. He should’ve known better. Tony holds his hands up and sighs.

“Okay, sorry. I didn’t try to mock you, okay? This is a good thing. But seriously, the way Barnes is acting all week, I kind of think he might have it bad for you, too, but for some reason can’t admit it. My guess is he feels guilty towards Natasha. Or he’s just as surprised about him liking another guy as I am.”

“Yeah maybe, or he just feels guilty, and he tries not to hurt anybody’s feelings by putting some distance between us.”

“Always the pessimist, Rogers. I take it he doesn’t know how you feel?”

“Of yourse not! I mean maybe he guessed, he always knew when I was lying, but … well, I didn’t say anything. Told him I liked it though, and it was a nice kiss for kissing your best friend, basically...”

Tony groans. “Man. That’s a fucked up conversation. Does he know _you’re_ into guys? Did _you_ know you are?”

“Yeah, I mean … I guess. I don’t know. I kind of just assumed that I was into girls, because why wouldn’t you, but when I realized how I felt about Bucky it didn’t really seem strange. I mean, it is strange, because he’s Bucky, but not in that way, you know? I reckon I must sort of always have known but it just kind of never really came up, because nobody was interested in me, anyway. I don’t think he knows. I didn’t ever say anything about it, it never really came up before. Unless he guessed from my reaction to the kiss, but I was drunk so maybe that doesn’t really count… ”

Tony shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“Okay, look at it this way: What if he feels the same way, and he’s only now realizing it because he also assumed that he was exclusively into girls, and maybe being drunk sort of, like … had him connect with that part of him? And he thinks you’re not into him and you reaffirm it by telling him you thought it was okay for kissing your best friend?”

“Well what else was I supposed to say! He’s got a girlfriend and he’s happy!”

“Well, Rogers, what do you want? Do you want him to be with you or not?”

“I do, I mean … oh god.” Steve sinks down further on the sofa, putting his cup down and covering his face with his hands. “If I tell him there can’t be anything good that comes from it! If he feels the same he’s going to hurt Natasha if he’s with me. And also he’s happy with her, so I highly doubt he has these kind of feelings for me. And if that’s the case and I tell him, our friendship will never be the same! He won’t want to hurt me more, he’ll distance himself and…”

“Okay now, Rogers!” Tony interrupts. “Hang on a second! First of all, what obligation do you have to Natasha? I mean I get she’s a bit scary, but you don’t owe her anything. If he’d rather be with you, do you really want him to stay with her just for the sake of it!? She already knows something’s up, she just doesn’t know what it is. And secondly, the way I see it you’re both distancing yourselves already, am I right? It can only get better, because then at least he’ll know what’s actually keeping you apart and you can, like … try to work around that or something socially demanding. So what have you got to lose, really?”

“My best friend”, Steve mutters, letting his hands drop back into his lap, looking at the floor sadly.

“Well frankly, I do think that losing your boy altogether is the only outcome of this whole thing that I think is pretty impossible, Rogers. As long as you don’t want him to go he never will. I thought you knew him better than that.” Tony states earnestly.

Steve sighs. Right now, the whole idea of even talking to Bucky about this again is scary as hell. Bucky’s friendship is one of the only things he has always been certain of, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize that any more than he already did, but he has to admit, that Tony’s probably right, who would have ever expected that. But, looking at the whole thing, he really doesn’t have anything more to lose than he already did.

*

The next week passes pretty much the same way the last one had. Steve and Bucky are still pretending to be normal around each other, Steve is hurting, and the questioning looks and raised eyebrows that Tony shoots at him occasionally are not helping at all.

Bucky notices the silent communications between Steve and Tony and shoots Steve a questioning look in turn, but the younger boy just shrugs noncommittedly and Bucky doesn’t say anything about it.

Steve’s looking for any type of sign about the feelings Bucky might or might not have, but comes up empty. He tries to work up some courage to talk to his friend despite of that on the weekend, but then there’s Scott’s birthday party and Natasha is there, and she’s stunning and flawless as ever, and she and Bucky look so good together that Steve crumbles again, trying to will himself to be happy for the two of them and look for a way to get over his best friend.

On Saturday morning Steve receives a text from Bucky. _Time for that sleepover! My parents are out tonight, you want to come over?_ Steve stares at his phone in surprise. With the new vibe between them he hadn’t actually expected Bucky to follow up on that whole thing. But he wants to spend time with Bucky. Maybe for the wrong reason, he thinks, but he does, so he shoots him back a text conforming that he would be there at 6 o’clock.

He gets more nervous as the day drags on, fretting about whether he should take the opportunity with the two of them alone to say something like Tony had suggested. Then he tries to talk himself out of it again, thinking that this was probably Bucky’s attempts to get their friendship back on track and it would be very wrong to ruin that by following up on the conversation they had had when they had last been alone. He goes back and forth all day and when the evening comes around he angrily sets his jaw and decides to just go with it, wait how it goes and then maybe decide on the spot, depending on the level of awkwardness that the evening would bring.

When he arrives at Bucky’s house the brunet opens the door for him with a smile like he always does and ushers his friend in. Steve drops his duffel bag in Bucky’s room and follows him to the kitchen, where they start on some sandwiches and quickly drop into an easy conversation. Steve feels himself loosen up slowly, because it’s not awkward at all, and the tension that had been there the past two weeks seems to have vanished completely. They joke and laugh together, easily teasing each other like they always had. They change into their pajamas and flop down on Bucky bed with the finished sandwiched, starting on a movie and watching it in comfortable silence while happily chewing on their food.

When the movie is over, Steve looks over at his friend to find him smiling at him with a soft expression in his eyes. Steve smiles back, thinking about how gorgeous Bucky looks, and then quickly averts his gaze to his empty plate out of fear that his friends might guess his thoughts. They were on a good track, he wouldn’t be ruining that now!

“You want to make some hot chocolate?” he asks instead, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yup!” Bucky agrees and quickly gets up. Steve follows his friend into the kitchen and together they start pouring milk and hunt for the chocolate powder in the kitchen cabinets.

“So I tried the other day to put cinnamon in it and then whipped cream on top. That was really good, you want to try it?” Bucky suggests, shooting Steve a questioning look. When the younger boy nods, the brunet turns back to the cabinet and scrambles around for the cinnamon.

They settle back on Bucky’s bed with their hot cinnamon chocolate drinks, and Steve tentatively takes a sip of the hot beverage.

“That’s really good”, he agrees. “Where’d you get the idea?”

“Nat told me”, Bucky replies after a brief second of hesitation that Steve pretends not to notice.

“What’s she doing tonight, anyway?” he asks instead.

“Um”, Bucky mumbles and shifts uncomfortably on the bed, pausing a few seconds before he answers. “I don’t know. We broke up, actually.”

Steve nearly drops his mug as his jaw drops and he feels like all air leaves his body in less than a second. He stares at his friend, who has turned his head away and looks very sheepish. After a few seconds Steve gets some air back into his body and swallows audibly.

“Why? I mean what happened? I saw you two just the other day, everything seemed fine!?”

“Yeah well. Nothing specific happened, exactly … we didn’t have a fight or anything. I just realized over the last few days that it didn’t feel like I think being in love with someone is supposed to feel like, so I broke it off this morning. She kind of expected it, I think, because I had been acting weird for a while, but she wasn’t exactly happy about it. Kept asking me about what was wrong and I didn’t really have a good answer. She said we’d only been together three months and how I had said that I had feelings for her and she told me that falling in love for real takes time and stuff.”

Bucky swallows and takes another deep breath. “I said I know and I do have feelings for her, and I don’t like to hurt her, because really, I don’t, and I feel bad about it, but it just sort of became clear to me that it wouldn’t ever lead to anything more than that and it wasn’t fair to lead her on more. So she doesn’t want to see me for the time being, and I expected that. It doesn’t feel great, but it is what it is, I guess. When I left her house I sort of felt relieved, though, which makes me think it was the right decision. All I really wanted then was to spend some time with you so I shot you that text on my way home.” Bucky breathes out heavily, awkwardly turning his cup around in his lap.

Steve sinks back against the wall, feeling overwhelmed and absolutely at a loss for words. He’s painfully aware of Bucky shooting him tentative side glances and has no idea what expression his face is wearing because he has no idea what to think in the first place. The silence stretches out as Steve tries to gather his thoughts and think of something to say, and he notices Bucky fully turning towards him after a while, looking worried.

“You alright, Stevie?” he says, touching his friend’s arm lightly. Steve nods, swallowing hard, and taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you. I thought you were great together”, he finally manages to crook out, cringing at how hollow and flat his own voice sounds. Bucky doesn’t say anything in return, just keeps looking at him, and Steve wants to sink into the floor, because he’s sure that, in this moment, his friend can see right through him and guesses all the conflicting thoughts and emotions currently rushing around in his head and gut.

There’s shock at the news in general, guilt at the thought of having thrown this relationship off balance, relief that he no longer has to pretend to be unconditionally supportive of the relationship, confusion as to how that so suddenly happened, hope because of what if it meant Bucky returned his feelings, hurt, because he hadn’t told him right away, compassion with Natasha for losing Bucky, and anxiety for having to come up with a sensible reaction when this piece of news had done nothing but send him into emotional turmoil of his own.

“Steve.” He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to find Bucky still staring at him, but a lot closer now. “You’re looking like a deer in headlights right now. I didn’t expect you to take this so hard. Do you think I did the wrong thing?”

Steve forces down a hysterical laugh that’s creeping up in his throat, and instead shakes his head and clears his throat in an attempt to ground himself.

“It’s your decision. If it feels right to you then it was the right decision”, he says, feeling really proud of himself for this answer. “I was just not expecting that, is all, because you never said anything and on Scott’s birthday it looked like everything was good as ever.”

“It was, but that’s kind of the point … I started dating her because I was really smitten with her. I mean she’s great and I don’t know another girl like her and I really enjoyed her company. And I felt really drawn to her, physically and emotionally. But the point is, it was always like that, my feelings more than three months later are still pretty much the same as they were when we started dating. It was always the kind of first date kind of vibe and that didn’t change, and I thought if she was the one for me it should have. But there was never that sort of easy camaraderie that I think should be there if you’re going to be with someone. Not like what you and I have.”

Steve had taken up his mug again to have something to do with his hands and was just sipping on his hot chocolate when Bucky said this, causing the smaller boy to choke on his drink and sending him into a coughing fit. Bucky more or less helpfully claps on his friend’s back until Steve is breathing normally again, finally also turning sideways on the bed to look at Bucky.

“What.” He says, still trying to catch his breath.

Bucky shrugs, but keeps looking at Steve, suddenly seeming very nervous again. “You know, with you it’s kind of like … it’s not like any of the other friendships I have? I mean I love my friends, and I really like hanging out with them and having fun and also being serious with them sometimes, but with you it was always different. We do all these things, but it’s more … safe. Secure. Like, you never judge me, you always understand me, you know when I need space and when I don’t. Usually it’s enough when you’re just there, you don’t even have to say or do anything and I’m content. And you make me feel the same way, like I can also just be there and you never expect me to do something or to act a certain way. I can act like a dick sometimes and you always forgive me, because you understand, and because I will always forgive you when you are being a dick. Because the times when we’re both not acting like morons will always make up for it, even if we don’t do anything special or something. That’s what I feel like I should be having with somebody I’m in love with. And it didn’t seem like I could get there with Nat, it was just different. I talked to my sister in the afternoon and she told me I am young and it’s high school romance and I shouldn’t put pressure on myself to find my so-called one true love, yet and just enjoy what I have now. But I thought if I know what I want, why should I settle for anything less now, knowing that it’s not the real thing?”

Steve stares back at his friend, feeling lightheaded. This conversation had suddenly taken a turn he had not expected at all and he doesn’t trust his own judgement to think that Bucky is saying what Steve thinks he is saying.

“I…”, he starts, but has to stop himself to clear his throat, voice sounding hoarse. Truth be told, he doesn’t even know what he actually wants to say. “I know. I want all of that, too”, he finally manages to get out, throwing all caution out of the window, and when he sees Bucky’s eyes light up at that, he’s sure he hasn’t just been reading into things. The smile that spreads on his best friend’s face is about the best thing he has ever seen in his life.

At least until Bucky slowly starts edging closer and Steve’s breath catches when their faces are only inches from each other and Bucky stops, shooting him a questioning look. Steve answers by leaning in slightly, and the Bucky closes the remaining distance to kiss him. It’s slow and gentle and everything the first kiss hadn’t been, and it’s too much and not enough at the same time, and it’s perfect.

*

They lie together on the top on the blankets on Bucky’s bed a little while later, curled up into each other’s arms. Bucky is rubbing slow circles on Steve’s arm, sending little sparks through his body through the fabric of the pajamas. Neither of them had spoken for a while, both of them just content with everything that had been said and the huge tension lifted from both their shoulders.

“How long?” Bucky finally breaks the silence after what seemed like forever. Steve doesn’t have to ask what he means.

“Since I admitted it to myself? Venice. A couple of months before that where I was basically in denial. You?”

“Same, I think. I realized after Venice, but looking back at it, my feelings toward you had changed long before that, just not consciously. I guess I make better choices when I’m drunk. Don’t know what that says about me, though”, Bucky muses, chuckling to himself.

“It didn’t exactly feel like a good choice for the last two weeks”, Steve remarks, not bitter now that it doesn’t matter anymore.

“That fortune teller woman _did_ warn me about making quick decisions that hurt people I care about. Told me not to mess it up. ““She did”, Steve agrees, thinking back to the panic in his gut when he had thought she would reveal his feelings for Bucky. How did she know, he wonders. Was he really that transparent? “Is that why you didn’t say anything about your feelings afterwards until now?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the only reason. First of all, I have never before felt attracted to another guy, so that was confusing as fuck and I had to work out if that was real in the first place. And also I was with Nat and I had to untangle those feeling from the ones I have for you. On top of that I didn’t know if you felt the same, because you kissed me back at first, and then you stopped me, and then you told me it was nice for kissing your best friend and nothing more, and usually I know what you’re thinking but this time I just didn’t. I didn’t know if you were acting weird because you felt the same or because you still felt self-conscious or held a grudge or whatever. So I spent a good amount of time trying to read you and I wasn’t very successful at that.”

“I was doing the same”, Steve chuckles. It draws a laugh from Bucky.

“I think we can establish that we’re both idiots. But anyway, another reason was that I thought, even if you did feel like me, then we would be going from friendship to relationship and I had no idea how and if that was going to work out, and that was scary as hell. I thought I needed to be one hundred percent certain that this is what I want, because I thought if we mess this up, we could never be able to go back to just friendship, and I don’t know if I could take us being over for good. So I was giving myself time to second guess myself.”

“Great, no pressure then”, Steve mumbles, nuzzling his head closer to Bucky’s chest.

“Right”, Bucky agrees. “That’s why I actually wasn’t planning on doing all of this tonight. I originally wanted to not talk about it and just test the waters, sort of, but then it just came up somehow and I went with it. Now I’m happy, because it went much better than I could have hoped. And I’m sure now.”

“I’m sure, too.” There’s a genuine smile in Steve’s voice and Bucky places a gentle kiss on the top of his head. They fall back into comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence and the shift in their relationship that had happened. Steve thinks he doesn’t want to move from this place ever again. It’s late, but he’s as far from going to sleep as he possibly could be, wanting to savour every last second of this.

“I have one more question for you, though”, Bucky finally says.

“Hm?”

“What’s the deal with you and Tony, you’ve been acting really weird lately and I didn’t want to ask.”

“Oh. Well. I kind of … asked him for advice. On you.”

“ _You_ asked _Tony_ for advice _?_ How come? Did hell freeze over?”

“Well, when they picked us up from the Hotel in Venice he guessed what had happened. He pointed out the hickey I had and made fun of me at first, but a couple of days later he came up to me to ask me if he was right about what he thought was going on, which he was, and offered to listen if I wanted to talk. I didn’t want to, at first, but then I took him up on it and he’s been telling me to talk to you. That’s why he has been giving me pointed looks and rolling his eyes at me. He thought I should say something because whatever happened then it would be better than how it was last week.”

“Smart man, Tony”, Bucky agreed and then thought for a couple of seconds, before he let out an amused huff. “Did I really give you a hickey? I didn’t realize. I was pretty out of it, apparently.”

“You did. My mum noticed it as well, but she didn’t say anything. She probably figured me out a while ago, now that I come to think of it. Now I think maybe she might not be very surprised when she finds out about us? Tony found it pretty hilarious, though.”

“Did he now.” Bucky mused thoughtfully. “What do you think, should we give him something more to laugh at?”

Steve tilted his head back to the hem of the cushion to look up at his friend, no – boyfriend. He grins at him and raises one eyebrow challengingly at Bucky, who smiles back, eyes glistening with mischief.

There’s a second of silent communication between them and then Bucky raises his head off the cushion to lower it on Steve’s neck. Yeah, Tony would find it hilarious, but for once, Steve didn’t think he would mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! It may or may not be apparent that I am not a native English speaker, so I apologize in case there are any mistakes left. Rachael betaread tbe story for me, but if any of you still find anything that's incorrect or doesn't sound right to a native speaker, let me know so I can fix it :)  
> And if you have any oher comments about this story I'll be happy to hear from you :)
> 
> Again I invite everyone to join me on [tumblr!](http://anice-1.tumblr.com) for any kind of Stucky, Sebastian or Chris trash or just general randomness :D

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is already written, I just need to do some editing and then it'll be here in a couple of days!  
> If there are any mistakes left they are entirely my own fault ... feel free to point them out so I can make corrections.
> 
> If you want to have a chat or just want to hang out with me you can do so on [my tumblr](http://www.anice-1.tumblr.com/) :)  
> I'm basically Stucky/Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan trash and occasionally throw in stuff about some other actors, Hamilton, Merlin (recently) or just funny shit that crosses my path. So if y'all are interested in any of that, let me know, and we can geek out together :)


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